


My sins on your skin

by smuttyscribbles



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Illegal Activities, Oral Sex, Student You, Teacher Ashton, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:17:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2297906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smuttyscribbles/pseuds/smuttyscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how much you try and convince yourself that you don't have a crush on your hot music teacher, the events that occur on your birthday would suggest otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My sins on your skin

Waking up on your eighteenth birthday with a full day of school ahead of you was the last thing you had ever wanted. You’d dreamt of spending the day on the beach, drinking mojitos in the sun with your friends then getting incredibly drunk and dancing to obnoxious RnB songs before passing out in full makeup and waking up tomorrow with a hangover that’ll make you swear you’ll never drink again. Instead you’ve got a biology test and double maths.

 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You jump, slamming your locker shut when your arm jolts with the rest of your body. “Jesus Christ!” you gasp, wincing as you’re bundled with the bodies of your two best friends, their arms closing around your neck and squeezing until you’re almost certain you’re going to pass out. “Help….help….” you gasp theatrically as they giggle in your ear.

“Okay, let’s give her some air.” Jasmine grins, taking a step back from you and allowing the musky cloud of her Chanel perfume that lingers around your face to thin a little.

“Yeah, thanks.” You mutter sarcastically as Ashley shoves a bright pink envelope into your face, her wide blue eyes alight with excitement on your behalf.

“Open it!” she says loudly, pulling a face at the girl walking passed who glares at her for using excessive volume.

The bell rings, a klaxon of doom that draws a groan from every student in the hall. You blow out a long, resigned sigh and shove the card into your bag, “I’ll open it later, I have to get to this stupid test.”

Ashley’s nose wrinkles, her painted pink lips pushing together in a pout, “Sucks.”

“Yeah, but you can open it at mine tonight, where there is much needed alcohol and eye candy in the form of endless episodes of Supernatural.” Jas winks. School night sleepovers at hers were always on, what with her parents working away most weekdays.

“Sounds perfect.” You grin, turning on your heels so fast that the pleated skirt of your school uniform fans out around your bare thighs. “I’ll see you guys in music” you call out behind you as your shoes squeak against the lino floor of the whitewashed hallway.

“Yeah you will.” Jasmine calls back, her tone making you laugh out loud to yourself. You know exactly what is going on in her head and you’re pretty sure you’re thinking the same thing.

Biology goes as quickly as you had imagined it would, close to the speed of the tortoise racing the hare, though you felt a slight win when the bell for second period History rang and you could hand in your completed test and not see it again, at least until after the weekend anyway. History passes quickly, though you’re sure it’s the excitement of your only lesson with your friends helping the hour seem like a handful of easy minutes. The downside of being in the higher groups for your main subjects is that your best friends would rather file their nails and talk fashion tips than listen to Mr Rodgers talk ancient Roman civilisation.

There may be one other reason you’re looking forward to music. One that you choose not to dwell on too much, not wanting to become another one of the countless girls in your year with some pathetic crush on your hot music teacher. Mr Irwin is young and funny, one of the sweetest teachers you’ve ever had, it was a shame really that he taught the lesson you cared for the least, but he did make it more interesting than your previous teachers had.

You could tell when girls had Mr Irwin for their next class because they always littered the hallway applying extra lipgloss and scrunching their hair to add more volume, spraying their uniforms with sweet scents from pink aerosol cans. You’re sure your class is one of the worst, most likely due to the fact that most of them are eighteen and already well versed in the naked tango enough to believe that anything could happen and maybe their third period music lesson would magically turn into some kind of cheesy porno. You roll your eyes as you pass them, wondering if they’d ever realise that all their efforts are pointless. A music teacher in his mid-twenties is not going to risk his career for a vapid teenage girl whose artificial scent could knock out a cow.

Jasmine and Ashley are waiting for you outside of the classroom, the former adjusting her breasts by sticking a hand down her blouse and the latter smoothing down flyaway hairs and fluttering her eyelashes into her compact mirror. You groan, stopping in your tracks a few feet from them.

“Why are we friends again?” you ask playfully, noting the group of boys staring at your friends as if they were performing some kind of sex dance to summon erections from all around.

Jasmine winks, unbuttoning the second button of her shirt and pulling up her skirt slightly, doing her best impression of an overly priced escort, “Because you love us and we’re pretty damn great.” She says confidently and you can only tilt your head in agreement.

Ashley closes her compact with a snap, “Jas got Lindsey in the face during dodge ball.” She says as you turn towards the door and follow your classmates inside, “Best thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Ouch.” You wince sympathetically, even though Lindsey had made it her mission to turn into the real life Regina George.

“She’ll probably have a black eye.” Jasmine shrugs, her grin proud as she sweeps towards the table at the back that the three of you shared with two boys who hadn’t spoken to you the entire school year. “Oh hello!” she purrs under her breath, her head turned towards the front of the room.

You purposely don’t look, knowing that if you fall prey to him so quickly you’d just beat yourself up over it later. You’re determined to be the one girl that didn’t get overwhelmed by the dimples and puppy-like enthusiasm for music. The lean, delicately muscled body. The soft, honey hued eyes. You throw your bag down on the table, huffing in annoyance at yourself for your weakness, because as much as you would like to consider yourself stronger than the others, you were completely wrong.

“Oh my god, look at him.” Ashley squeak quietly as she collapses into the chair to your right. “He is so sexy.” Her voice drops an octave between the two sentences and you stare at her as if she’s a freak because it’s better than looking up and having your breath taken away.

“Just look, (Y/N).” Jasmine snorts as you both take your seats and you focus on pulling your books out of your bag just to stop yourself from doing as she says. “You know you want to and it’ll be worth it.” her sing-song tone makes you itch, the urge to look upon your demons crawling beneath your skin.

“He’s wearing the grey slacks.” Ashley informs with no thought as to what it will do to you.

A small gasp parts your lips and your head shoots up before you can judge that it probably isn’t the best idea. Mr Irwin is sitting on the edge of his desk, long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, as he watches the stragglers plod through the door and find their seats. His arms are crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his light blue shirt folded up at the elbow and letting your eyes skim the lengths of his muscled forearms, which should not be a turn on but totally is. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, your eyebrows furrowing as your eyes drift over his broad chest and up to his wide smile and amused eyes.

A choked groan rumbles from your throat and your friends cackle wildly beside you, getting louder when you move to smack them both on the arm without turning your head. Their laughter brings attention with it and Mr Irwin’s gaze moves towards your table and meets yours dead on. You’re pretty sure your heart stops. He raises an eyebrow, the apples of his cheeks pushing out with his grin. You go for a polite smile and a small shrug, feigning ignorance as to why your mates are doing wicked witch of the west impressions and in return he sends you a playful wink before he stands, his head swivelling to take in his room of students while your stomach flutters pitifully. 

“Right class.” He says, his long strides carrying him to the door so that he can close it with a soft click. You do your best not to focus on the way those grey trousers cling to his backside and thighs, the material stretched over delicious muscle. “Today you’re going to be coming up with your final production piece. The work that will be marked and put towards your final grade.”

“(Y/N) wants to work you for her final score.” Jasmine sniggers quietly, though the room is silent enough for her mumblings to make students on the nearby tables turn towards you with understanding smirks on their faces.

“Shut up.” You kick her under the table which makes her squeak loudly, drawing Mr Irwin’s attention. He cocks his head at you, but continues to explain to the class what things qualify as acceptable for your presentation exams.

“This can be a performance of one of your favourite pieces of music, within reason of course, I doubt they’d let me mark a Slipknot song as high as a Bach piece but goddamn I wish they would.” He grins, perching himself on the edge of his desk again, right in the middle so that you’ve got the perfect view of him. He grabs one of his precious drums sticks from his desk and absentmindedly twirls it between his long fingers. You shift in your seat, the sight of it making your pulse pick up and your thighs clench under the table. “Or you can compose your own piece of music.”

You had no idea what you’d be doing and you couldn’t care less in this moment. Maybe you’d write a song on your guitar about how hot Mr Irwin is, that might get you extra points. Stroking guys egos worked that way right? Propping your head on your hand, you watch his fingers move with that drumstick, flicking and twirling, and the time he demonstrated his drumming skills on the huge red set to the left of his desk flared in your minds eye. You squeezed your thighs together tighter, not ready for the rush of heat you had felt at the thought of your teacher banging away at those drums.

“Careful, you’re starting to drool.” Ashley whispers in your ear, giggling lightly.

You snap out of your dangerous thoughts to flash her a glare, “Am not.”

“Might as well be, I can see your boner from here.”

“Girls!” both your heads spin towards the front of the room, where Mr Irwin is watching you with a closed mouth grin that’s obviously forced, “Please pay attention, it’s important that you know what you’re going to be doing. You don’t want to fail do you?” Everyone is looking at you now, expecting some fluffy remark stammered out and backed up with pink cheeks. You weren’t going to give them that.

You raise a brow, meeting his eyes, “No, Sir.” You gave a shake of your head, “Can’t say that I do.”

Mr Irwin smirks, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile, “Good, now please listen.”

“Sorry Sir.” Ashley adds, though he only gives her a nod.

You press your lips together, rubbing them through the cherry chapstick that’s still going strong from halfway through History. Mr Irwin continues to talk to the class but you’re blocking out his words and just watching the way his mouth moves. The way he runs his free hand through the mop of light curls that sweep across his forehead. It should be completely fucking illegal to have a teacher so damn gorgeous. How the hell were you supposed to pass this class with a good grade if the sight of his tongue touching his bottom lip renders you completely unable to think.

“You’ve got a problem.” Jasmine whispers behind her hand, “I’m surprised you haven’t slid right off that chair.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, just to try and collect yourself as her body jiggles up and down with her silent laughter. “You’re a bitch.” You cough, trying to hide your words. One of the boys at your table looks over and you send him a beaming smile which makes him turn back quickly.

“Oh Mr Irwin.” Jas moans quietly, suggestively, “Please Mr Irwin.”

“Ladies, really?”This time you can’t help but squeak in slight embarrassment, praying he hadn’t heard exactly what she had been saying. “One more disruption and there will be consequences.” He warns, staring right at you even though it had been Jas who’d done the disrupting. “Understood?” he quirks a brow, the drumstick stilling in his grasp.

You nod quietly, trying not to dwell on the sound of his voice when he’s trying to be strict, you’ll think about it more later no doubt. Rolling your eyes at yourself, you let anger build in your chest at the appearance of one of your weaker traits. You tried daily to convince yourself that you don’t have a thing for him, but it appears you’re only fooling yourself and you’re not even doing it all that well.

“Bang me like your drums, Mr Irwin.” Ashley giggles and Jasmine snorts.

“Oh shut up.” You says, forgetting about being quiet, you glare at your friend as her eyes widen.

“(Y/N)!” His voice startles you, deep and harsh, completely unfamiliar. You’re not sure he’s ever used that tone in your class before. Your muscles freeze and heat rushes to your cheeks this time even as you silently beg yourself not to blush. “Detention after school, I want you in here by three-thirty.” You practically gulp, but you say nothing as his gaze pins you in place.

“But Sir!” Jasmine pipes up, immediately to your rescue and no doubt feeling guilty now, “You can’t, it’s her birthday.”

Mr Irwin’s eyes widen slightly, his mouth turning down, “That’s a shame, but I warned you there would be consequences. Detention.” He points at you with the drumstick as you sink low in your chair.

An hour with Mr Irwin, possibly alone, how the hell were you going to prepare for that? You barely survived the lessons and you had back up during these times. You scrunch your face up, the squirming on your gut on overdrive as your palms start to get clammy. You rub them against your skirt, giving Jasmine a shrug when she mouths an apology.

“Happy birthday to me.” You grumble, blinking innocently when Mr Irwin glances in your direction again.

The rest of your day is as exciting as the beginning, the only highlight being the cupcake Jasmine bought you for lunch and her promise of more sugary goodness when you arrive at hers after your detention. When the final bell of the day buzzes through the school, you huff, shoving your maths books into your bag and swinging it onto your shoulder. You walk slowly back to your music class, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to go through. You hope he’ll let you go early at least, he did have a tendency for being lenient.

You knock your knuckles against the closed door, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you wait, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your plaid skirt one second and then tugging at your blazer sleeves the next. What happens to be about thirty seconds feels like forever and when the door finally opens you release the breath you’d not realised you’d been holding.

Mr Irwin smiles at you and pushes the door open wider, motioning you inside with his other hand, “Come on then (Y/N).” He says, “Let’s get this over with, I don’t want to be responsible for ruining your birthday.”

You shuffle in passed him, slipping your bag down onto the first table, “To be honest, I think you’ve been beaten to it.”

You’re pretty proud of yourself for keeping a level tone and not sounding like an idiot but when he closes the door, the fact that you’re alone in a room with him starts to settle and you have to rest your butt against the table for when your knees get a little weak. Mr Irwin steps up to his desk and pops his lips together as if he has no idea how to conduct a detention.

“By what?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

You shrug, “School in general.”

He chuckles, nodding, “I see your point. Eighteen isn’t so amazing when you can’t party, huh?”

You smile, “Who says I’m not going to party.” You tease, your nerves actually allowing you a break for a second. If there was one thing you are good at, it’s acting. Your anxiety actually makes it easier to pretend that you’re not screaming internally.

You see him stiffen slightly before his mouth curves up at one side, “True, but now I know that if you’re not in tomorrow you’re actually at home hungover.”

“You got me there.”

His eyes don’t leave yours for a few seconds and you can feel the speeding beat of your heart in your chest when he finally snaps his gaze away, “Right, do you have any homework you can get on with?” he clears his throat, one large hand grabbing at his shoulder and kneading as though it aches.

You look down at your bag, arranging your thoughts as best you can, “Erm…yeah.”

“Shit.” You hear him whisper. You look up to find him a step closer than before, a heavy frown on his face as he watches you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. His eyes flicker over your face, darker than usual and then down your body and when they settle on the place that the hem of your skirt sits against your bare thighs, your stomach clenches and you can feel a rush of wetness flood your underwear. You swallow thickly, the sound almost audible to anyone within a ten foot radius.

“N-nothing.” He shakes his head, “Let’s see this homework then.”

You grab the math question sheet you’d been given last period out of your bag as Mr Irwin moves closer, within arm’s reach when you hold out the paper for him to inspect. He takes it from you, meeting your eyes briefly just as he licks his lips, making them shine so deliciously that a small groan works its way out of your mouth. Your eyes shoot wide with humiliation as his whole body freezes, his gaze lifting from the paper to your face. He drops his arm and lets your homework fall to the floor before he steps closer.

His knees brush yours, his body looming closer as your blood roars in your ears. Your fingers clench around the side of the table, a shuddering breath racking your chest as a waft of his rich cologne hits you in the face. It’s your tongue swiping over your bottom lip this time, your mouth feeling dry as Mr Irwin take one more step towards you, slotting one of your legs between the two of his, his chest within inches of yours.

“You’re…” he shakes his head, his teeth nipping at the side of his mouth as one hand fingers your wrists, “You’re so beautiful.”

The air rushes from your lungs as you blink stupidly at the man in front of you, hardly believing what you are seeing and hearing. His touch to your wrist is gentle and not nearly enough. “I…what?” you mutter stupidly though you enjoy the sight of the small amused grin on his face.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” he sighs wistfully, moving to take a step back until you grasp his hand and pull him to a stop.

It was now or never you suppose, you weren’t one for letting chances pass you by and it was his fault that the possibility is even running through your head. “I don’t mind.” You smile sweetly, the sudden silence of the school hitting you like a ton of bricks. You can’t hear anyone in the halls and that gives you enough confidence to pull him back in ever so slightly. His free hand moves to your jaw, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone.

“You’re going to get me into trouble.” He whispers, “Do you know what you do to me? Looking at me the way you do…like you’re so damn desperate for me.” His chest heaves, his head dropping towards yours.

Your heart is in your throat and you’re starting to think that maybe this is all just a dream, and if it is, then you can say whatever comes to mind can’t you? “What if I am desperate for you?” you answer, your thighs tensing as he groans.

“Christ.” He bites, “I…I have to…”

He closes the gap between your mouths, his wet lips slotting against yours and lingering as your eyes drift shut. When your lips move they slide against each other, slipping and stroking, he captures your bottom lip between both of his, his tongue pushing forward to taste it. A soft moan rises from your chest and he answers it with one of his own, his hands dropping to your knees to pull them up, sliding you back onto the table and slipping his hips between your legs. His mouth presses harder against yours, his kisses turning frantic as his hands slide up your thighs, grasping at the soft flesh.

“(Y/N), fuck.” He whispers against your mouth, pulling back to look down at your swollen lips. “We should not be doing this.” He practically whimpers and a flash of confidence has you sliding your hands up his chest, fingers grabbing at his slim blue tie.

“You want to stop?” You ask, smirking.

His lips collide with yours immediately, teeth tugging sharply on your bottom lip before he sucks the sting away. “No.” He growls against your mouth, shaking his head between kisses, “I don’t. Want. To. Stop.” He punctuates each word with another kiss until you’re a mess beneath his thorough ministrations.

“The door.” You manage to squeak as his lips trail along your jaw, his hands tightening on your legs. He pauses, leans back to look at you again.

“Yeah?” he asks and you know exactly what he means by it. It’s a simple word with a more complicated meaning but as much as your morals are screaming at you to rethink, your body is begging for you to continue.

“Yeah.” You nod, reaching up to peel your blazer off. Mr Irwin’s eyes drop to your chest before they close briefly.

“Thank god.” He whispers, rushing toward the door and turning the lock. When he returns, he stops just before you, hands resting on your knees and making your legs quiver from just a simple touch. “Are you sure?” he asks, “We don’t…we can stop whenever.”

You nod, “I’ll keep that in mind, Sir.”

“Fuck.” He groans, wedging himself between your thighs again, “It’s Ashton.” He murmurs as he pulls your hair off of your shoulder and drops his head into the crook of your neck. “I want to hear you say it.” he presses a kiss to your throat and a warm lick over your skin that sends a shiver through your body.

“Ashton.” You moan softly, his name rolling off of your tongue as though it was the only word you were ever meant to say. He groans into your neck, the hands on your knees sliding right up your legs, under your skirt and settling on your hips. He pulls your closer to the edge of the table, his hips pressing forward, the growing hardness behind his zipper grinding against the crotch of your panties.

"You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this to you." he sighs, his lips travelling the path of your jugular as you tilt your head to allow him more access. "Every time you walked through that door, in this tiny skirt with that sweet smile on your mouth. Every time you tried your best not to look at me, tried so hard not to be affected." he thrusts so hard that you bounce, your arms shooting around his neck to keep you steady. His words are permeating the wall of the lust that’s encasing you and you can’t quite understand how the man of your deepest, dirtiest fantasies is wrapped around you, whispering words that you’d only ever dreamt of hearing.

"You didn’t…" His mouth interrupts you, seeking greedy kisses from yours as he draws your legs around his waist, your ankles locked behind his back.

"I couldn’t show it." his arms tighten around you and he lifts you, turning and walking towards his desk, he sets you the floor beside it, your legs wobbly when they take your weight again. He cups your face in his large hands, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. "We’ve still got a few months of term…this can’t be mentioned to anyone." He sounds almost sorry about it but honestly you couldn’t care at all right now.

You tug at his shirt, pulling it from his pants as you nod your head, “I know.” you say, “Just can you please hurry up…” the neediness of your tone doesn’t go amiss. Ashton grins at you, chuckling quietly as his hands head for the buttons of your white shirt, making quick work of getting them undone, revealing inch after inch of your body to him.

"Get it off!" he growls as his impatience sets in. He leaves you to yank your blouse out of your skirt and pull it off, letting it drop to the floor and leaving you in your white lace bra. "Jesus fucking Christ." he shakes his head, stunned for the moment, "You look so hot." 

You’re sure you blush, the look in his eyes is not one you’ve seen from any other guy you’ve been with. Not that there have been that many. Ashton looks hungry for you; like a starving man set in front of a feast. He looks as though he’s going to devour you whole and you can’t help the excitement that curls in your belly at the thought of what he might do. He yanks at his tie, pulling it off and slipping it over your head before he rushes to unbutton his shirt.You stare down at the material around your neck with a raised brow.

"You look even sexier in it." he beams, pulling his shirt off his muscles shoulders. You do your best not to stare like an idiot, but his chest and abs were works of art and you could help but admire him. 

"You’re taking too long." you whine, reaching out and grabbing his belt, tugging him towards you as you push up on tiptoes to kiss him again.

"Impatient, huh?" he smirks against your mouth, pushing you back against the desk as his hands stroke up your sides.

You let your head drop back as he kisses down the front of your throat, “Yes.” you huff, goosebumps rising on your skin when one of his hands palms your breast, fingertips roaming over your nipple through the fabric.

"Good." he licks along the lines of your collarbones, sucking on the tender skin in the hollows they create. "I like that you’re needy for me." His other arm is locked behind your back, his hand groping your arse, kneading the round flesh hard enough to pull a rich groan from your throat.

"Not needy." you pout, lying through your teeth. He looks up at you, raising an eyebrow to show you that he doesn’t believe you in the slightest. 

"Oh really?" The hand on your arse drops, long fingers sliding under your skirt and between your thighs, pressing up against the damp spot on your panties and rubbing in firm strokes from behind until the patch of wetness spreads. "You feel pretty needy to me." he moans in your ear, teeth latching onto your lobe before he sucks on it. You shudder, a gasp working it’s way out of your mouth as your hands grab at his biceps, the muscle hard beneath your touch, his skin hot. "Feels like your pussy is desperate for me."

"Ash." you mutter, slightly embarrassed and incredibly turned on. He pulls his hand away from your slit, the loss feeling a hell of a lot worse then it really was, and reaches up to unfasten your bra.

"Take this off, baby." he smiles, leaning in to kiss you as you let the material fall, baring your tits, his tie settling between them. "Fuck." He cups your breasts in his hands pushing them together as he leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth.

He suckles in hard tugs, his tongue circling the hard bud, flicking it and sending sparks of pleasure straight to your clit. He’s sloppy with you, uncontrolled, all the while casting his eyes up and making sure to hold your gaze. He pulls off of you with a pop, smirking down at the sight of your puffy nipple, shining with his saliva. He leans in again, scraping his teeth over the swollen nub and laughing smugly when you whimper at the sensation. He captures your other nipple and immediately tugs at it, the threat of his teeth making your clit pulse wildly.

Not wanting to be outdone, you slip your knee between his legs and press up gently against his cock, surprised that he hasn’t burst out of his slacks with how hard he is. He groans as you rub against him and scatters kisses and nips over your breasts. His hands drop to your waist, squeezing as he straightens up, biting his lip as he stares down at you. 

"Turn around for me."

His hands twist you around so that you’re facing his desk, neatly marked papers and a registration folder piled in the far corner, plus the days lesson plans just to your right remind you of just what and who you are doing and the fact that it is highly illegal, let alone immoral. You shouldn’t be doing this, but that fact alone made it sexier, then top it off with the gorgeous man behind you and you have no chance of choosing the right path. Ashton takes your hands and places them on the desk so that you’re slightly bent over, your skirt riding up with your position.

"Holy shit." He mutters, pressing a hand between your shoulder blades and running it down your spine, the feel of his slightly calloused fingers making you shiver. "I can’t believe we’re doing this." he adds even quieter, as though talking to himself, but you can’t help but agree with him.

"You’re not doing much of anything right now." You tease, wiggling your arse to try and tempt him into doing something to you. Anything.

"Cheeky minx." he snorts just as one hand comes down with a slap against your thigh. The shock of the sting startles you and the warm tingles it leaves behind makes you moan softly and push your hips back towards him.

"More." you plead.

He curses again and you hear the squeak of the wheels of his desk chair. Looking behind you, you see him taking a seat and rolling right up towards you, the zipper of his trousers undone and his cock standing proud in the air, thick and blushed a dark red. Your mouth waters at the sight and when he catches you staring, he winks at you, his cock twitching.

"Let me see what my cheeky girl has for me then." he purrs, reaching out to flip your skirt up. "Oh fuck."

His hands grasp at the globes of your arse, fingertips sliding beneath the hem of your lace cheekies so that he can get a better hold of your cheeks, squeezing them roughly before he spanks one cheek hard enough to send you jolting forwards with a surprised gasp.

"You look great like this." He groans, slapping the other cheek just as hard, the pain of it sending shock waves throughout your body and making your hand clench into fists against the desk. His fingers pinch the waistband of your underwear and slides them, as slowly as he possibly can, over the swell of your backside. "Oh shit, baby."

He peels them down your legs and gets you to step out of them, leaving you propped against the desk in your skirt and heeled mary janes, his tie dangling between your tits. There’s a few seconds of nothing, enough that you throw a look over your shoulder to see what’s going on. Ash is staring at you, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as his hand runs along his cock in long, slow strokes. You drop to your forearms, bending right over and parting your legs just a little; he immediately groans, licking his lips as he gives himself one last stroke.

"Touch me." you whine, wiggling again, the need to have his fingers on your skin overwriting any kind of self control, not helped by the fact that he’s touching himself at the sight of you. If that wasn’t a turn on, you don’t know what is. 

He smirks at you before you drop your head down, resting your cheek against the cool wood. “Oh, I’ll touch you.” his fingers brush the side of yours knees, sliding all the way up until his hands are on your arse again, he spreads your cheeks, a pleased hum escaping him when he does. “So fucking hot.” he growls, “Do you know how wet you are?” His fingers slide along your folds from entrance to clit, giving a little rub before they disappear again, the touch startling you and making your thighs twitch. He wipes his fingers against your inner thigh, smearing your warm juices over your skin.

"Oh god, Ashton." You mutter quietly as his fingers return, delivering long sweeps over your entire slit, stroking your lips before rubbing firm circles right against your entrance, teasing you with the prospect of feeling them fill you up. Your breathy moans fill the room as his middle finger moves downwards and starts abusing your clit with quick, sure flicks that make your stomach tense. 

"You like that?" he asks, though he knows the answer. The pad of his finger rubs tightly over the throbbing nub between your legs, his thumb pressing against your opening, dipping inside so just the tip breaches your pussy. "I can’t wait to fill you up (Y/N), do you know how many times I’ve though of doing this? Bending you over my desk and fucking you until you can’t move, can’t think." He sinks his thumb inside of you all the way, presses it down and wiggles it.

Your legs jerk, your back arching at the intrusion and the added speed that he uses to rub your clit, two fingers pressed flush against it, turning circles into your favourite shape ever. His free hand rests against your arse, stroking the soft flesh before he slaps his palm against it sharply enough to make you cry out, the ache between your thighs worsened by the sting. You rut back against his hand, moaning in a wordless bid for more.

"You like being spanked, huh." He does it again, your backside jiggling with the force of his smack. You squeak at the brief flare of pain that’s quickly chased by another forceful spank before he slides his thumb out of you and replaces it with his middle and index finger, slowly easing them into you, the stretch heightening the ache until you can think of nothing but relieving it. "God, (Y/N), you’re so fucking hot and tight around my fingers. I can’t wait to feel you around my cock. You want that don’t you? Want my dick stretching your hot little pussy." His fingers slide back, then plunge deep again brushing against your walls and awakening every pleasure nerve nestled inside of you. You try to reply but your words end up escaping as a mangled moan. "Answer me!" he demands, his tone a little harsher.

"Yes Sir!" you yelp, your body shaking as you suck in a much needed breath. His fingers still and you groan impatiently until you realise exactly what you had said, then you’re sure your cheeks turn bright red. Thank god you couldn’t see him from this angle. 

"Fuck, that’s hot." he groans and you relax somewhat until his fingers start up a punishing pace, thrusting wildly into your pussy, the crude squelching sounds adding to your moans to create a sonata that you’d happily repeat over and over. "Shhh, babe, you can’t be too loud." he sniggers, sweeping his thumb over your clit to send a rocket of bliss up your spine, your entire body tighten around him. 

"Fuuuuck." you groan as quietly as you can, forcing yourself to press your lips together to keep the noise down, keeping in mind that anyone could walk passed and hear. 

Ashton presses one hand down on your lower spine, speeding the other up until your eyes are clenched shut and you have to bite down on your hand to keep from yelling out. His fingers make your body vibrate and your heart hammer out a furious rhythm behind your ribs.

"Are you close?" he asks, "You’re squeezing me." You nod your head vehemently, a whine sounding from the back of your throat. You clench your legs shut, tightening around his fingers and sending another jolt of pleasure through you. "Good." he says and then his fingers are gone and the orgasm you were so close to slips out of your grasp.

"Shit…why?" you grumble, the pulsing in your pussy almost uncomfortable. Ashton slaps your arse again, this time softly, urging you to turn around.

"You’re only going to come on my cock today." he says as you push yourself up on wobbly arms. "Will you kneel for me?" He asks when you finally manage to turn around, your eyes immediately seeking his cock, which is still poking out of his slacks and is now leaking at the tip, a bead of pre-cum easing from the slit.

Your teeth slide over your bottom lip as you nod your head, dropping smoothly to the floor in front of him, eager to taste him, to feel him heavy on your tongue. He leans back in his chair, parting his legs so you can kneel between them, your hands skirting up his covered thighs. His wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and angles it towards you, wiping the pearl of pre-cum across your bottom lip. You instinctively follow the touch with your tongue, then suck your bottom lip into your mouth, smiling when he practically growls at the sight.

"You taste good." you say softly, casting your eyes up at him.

He really does growl now, the sound rumbling from his chest, “Suck me.” he says and you part your lips, wrapping them around the flushed head of his cock, flitting your tongue over the slit to draw out more of that bittersweet flavour of him. He sighs happily, his head dropping to the side as you rub your tongue against the underside of his tip before you take another inch or two into the warmth of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck softly. “Ahh, just like that…”

You take it slow, taking him in as far as you can in deliberately delayed movements, taking your time to get a sense of the way he feels in your mouth, spreading your lips and widening your throat when you manage to take him deeper. His fingers gather your hair up into a ponytail, one hand holding it there as he lets you take the lead, his hips juddering and his chest heaving as each second goes by. The noises he makes, the husky groans and the soft inhales of breath, will stay branded into your mind forever, and if this never happens again, you’ll pleasure yourself to the memory of his dick in your mouth as he looks down at you with dark, hooded eyes. 

“That feels so good.” He grunts as you suck strongly on his tip before letting him slip from your mouth, your hand covering his so that you can hold him steady as you swipe a lick up the underside of his cock. “You like sucking your teachers cock?” He smirks, the red flush on his cheekbones particularly arousing for you. “Such a naughty girl aren’t you (Y/N).”

He slaps the head of his cock against your lips before he stands up, kicking the chair back so that it rolls along the floor and smacks into the whiteboard. His fingers grab for the tie around your throat, using it to pull you to your feet and draw you closer so that he can kiss you again. His lips teasing yours as he backs you up towards the desk, pushing you onto it until you’re seated slightly back from the edge, your arms out behind you to keep you up. He lifts your legs, planting your feet wide on the surface before he pulls away.

"Look at you." He purrs, hands pulling your butt closer to the edge as he steps right up, shoving your skirt up just a little so that it doesnt cover you. He grabs his length, stroking the tip along your folds, coating it in your juices and tapping it against your swollen clit. You shudder, trying to tilt your hips forward without falling off of the desk.

"Please Sir!" You sigh, trying your luck.

His head shoots up, eyes narrowing on yours as his mouth curves into a smirk. He reaches for the drawer in his desk, yanking it open and grabbing his wallet. Inside there’s a square foil packet that he slides out, throwing his wallet back into the desk and slamming it shut. He tears it open and rolls the condom on over his dick before chucking the wrapper on the desk. One of his large hands grips your thigh and the other lines himself up to your entrance.

"You ready, babe?" He asks, fingertips digging into your leg with bruising strength.

"God yes, hurry up."

Your mouth drops open as he pushes forward, spreading you open as he inches himself inside of you, taking his time. Your brows furrow at the sensation of his thick cock filling you up, your body stretching to accommodate him. His gaze is focused on where your bodies join and yours is too, watching him disappear into your slick pussy. He eases himself in until he no longer can, his arms resting on the desk either side of your hips as he brings his face closer to yours.

"Alright?" He whispers against your mouth.

You tilt your head to give him a soft kiss, “Yeah.” you nod, rolling your hips as much as you can and sucking in a breath when he groans, thrusting involuntarily. “Please…” 

"Fuck." His mouth latches onto your again and he withdraws his hips, his tongue seeking entrance when he slams forward. A gasp tears from your mouth and he uses that to his advantage as his tongue slides against your own.

His thrusts pick up speed until he’s pounding you, bottoming out each time so that the material of his trousers rubs against your skin. You can’t keep up the kissing, not when your head just wants to drop back, so his mouth goes to your throat instead, mottling your skin with pink marks soft enough to fade quickly. With each hard thrust, the pressure in your gut coils, his cock spearing through your walls and setting all those greedy nerves alight. He feels so good, much better than the couple of boys you’ve been with before.

"So fucking tight for me, baby." he groans against your skin, his hands grabbing one of your legs and positioning it against his chest, your knee bent against his shoulder. The muscles in your thigh pull taut, the hint of pain adding to the waves of pleasure. You yell out and his hand quickly covers your mouth, a grin widening his own. "As much as I want to hear you, you can’t be that loud." 

"S-sorry." you mumble against his hand, frowning when his thrust slow down. You try to follow his cock as it slides from you but your skin sticks to the desk with sweat.

"Come here." he pulls you from the desk and walks you to where the drum set sits, shining proudly. He grabs the drum stool and sits down, unbuttoning his slacks and pushing them down his thighs. "Come ride me." he slaps his knee and you do as he says, straddling him as he holds himself ready, and sinking down onto his dick again. "Fuck me." 

You wrap your arms around his neck, planting your feet firmly on the ground as you begin to bounce, liking the fact that you can control the speed now. You ride him at a gallop, his balls slapping against your arse with each downward thrust, his cock slamming into every spot that makes your body quake.

"Ashton." you moan, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to hold in all the sounds you wanted to make. You sink down fully, circling your hips a few times before you start with the up and down strokes again.

"That’s a good girl." he grunts into your neck, fingers pressing into your hips, helping you keep up your brutal pace. "Are you going to come for me (Y/N)?"

You yelp as he gives a decent thrust up, nodding “Yes Sir.”

One hand moves to your throat, curling around your neck so that he can push you back slightly and get you to look at him. “Come on me, baby, let me feel you.” 

Three more bounces and you’re exploding around him, a whimper bursting from your chest as your pussy clenches down hard on his cock. Ashton growls, doing his best to thrust up as your walls flutter wildly. He fucks you the entire way through and thirty seconds later he’s yanking your hips down, filling you fully until his balls are pressed tightly against you, and coming with a groan that’s muffled against your neck.

You collapse against his chest, catching your breath as his hands run up and down your spine. He presses gentle kisses to your throat as you enjoy your afterglow for a handful of seconds before you need to stand up, allowing him to rid himself of the condom. You gather up your clothes, sliding each article on until you’re presentable again. Once he does the same, pulls you into his chest, his head dipping to fasten his mouth to yours.

"You’re amazing." he smiles, his eyes bright again. He runs his fingers through your hair, trying to sort out the strands gone awry. "I…I don’t want this to be the only time." he mumbles, looking away for a second before meeting your gaze again.

"Me either." you shrug, praying to god that you get to explore more of him. There’s so much more you could experience.

He lets out a sigh of relief, “Good.” he says, “I don’t want it to just be sex either, but that’s up to you. Plus we’ll have to be so fucking careful.”

"I’m sure we can sort it out." you beam, your chest feeling as though your heart had expanded to full capacity, excitement making your head fuzzy.

You exchange numbers before he kisses you again until your lips are numb and then pulls away reluctantly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” he says as you head towards the door, unlocking it and peering out to see the hall empty. “And (Y/N).” you turn back as he runs a hand through his hair, flashing you his dimples with his grin, “Happy birthday.”


End file.
